


Carried You Under My Heart

by twobirdsonesong



Series: Haven 'verse [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Children, Derek gets a family, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pack Feels, Parent Derek and Stiles, Post Mpreg, Scent Marking, Stilinski Family Feels, Stilinski-Hale, Wolf Puppies, Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 20:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twobirdsonesong/pseuds/twobirdsonesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has been through a lot in his fairly short life.  Between the discovery of werewolves and battling friends-turned-Kanima, rogue hunters and the other various and sundry supernatural phenomena that are inexplicably drawn to Beacon Hills, Stiles has survived more than his fair share of insanity.  But none of it could have prepared him for parenthood.</p><p>It's the first full moon after the birth of their pups and it's time for Derek and Stiles to name their children.</p><p>(follows <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1054945">Haven In a Heartless World</a>)</p><p>ETA:  Katie (heavenorspace) drew me <a href="http://heavenorspace.tumblr.com/post/74016361812/aa-aaa-aaaaroooo-drawn-for-emilys-haven">Stiles and Derek teaching one of their pups how to howl.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Carried You Under My Heart

Stiles has been through a lot in his fairly short life. With the discovery of werewolves and battling friends-turned-Kanima, rogue hunters and the other various and sundry supernatural phenomena that are inexplicably drawn to Beacon Hills, Stiles has survived more than his fair share of insanity. But none of it could have prepared him for the depths of parenthood.

The first days after the birth of their pups pass in a haze of feeding and cleaning, napping and learning how to be fathers. In a night, Stiles and Derek went from just the two of them together (and the constant comings and goings of the rest of the pack) to a family of six. The change is massive, earth tilting, but they adapt. It’s the life they wanted, after all. Stiles learns that his time isn’t his anymore, not really, and he figures out how to carry more than one of his wriggling, squirming pups at the same time. And Derek learns that the pups aren’t delicate, breakable creatures. They’re tiny and needy and learning how to walk on unsteady legs, but they’re still werewolves. They hunt dust bunnies and gnaw on fingers. It’s like he has to remember what it means to be around pups again, after so many years since his own siblings were young.

The last weeks have been the hardest of Stiles’ life, but they’d also been some of the best. The pups are little balls of fluff and baby fat, huge feet and floppy ears. They’re all soft tummies meant for rubbing and smooth, thick fur and their breath is still puppy-sweet despite all the meat they devour. (Stiles never thought 6 pounds of werewolf pup could out-eat him.) They’re so freaking cute that sometimes Stiles can’t stand it and he gathers them all up in his arms and buries his face in their soft fur that smells of home and just holds them. He is wholly and completely in love.

They grow more quickly than Stiles expects, limbs lengthening and getting heavier every day. Too quickly, he worries. It takes Derek’s steady eyes and calm reassurances (and his sharp nose) that they’re all perfectly healthy (especially little Laura), and Deaton suggesting that the accelerated growth has to do with the spells behind their conception, for Stiles to stop worrying and relax a bit. He has to remember that he hadn’t carried them for nine months, after all. And magic is a funny thing.

Of course, there are nights when Stiles barely gets any sleep at all between the pitiful whining of one or more of the pups and the constant need to get them outside to do their business. As much as he loves them tiny and entirely too squeezable, Stiles can’t wait until they have opposable thumbs for bathroom doors and the ability to control their bladders on their own. And Derek wasn’t too impressed by Stiles’ suggestion of litter-box training their kids. There are days when Stiles is just so fucking exhausted from constantly making sure the kids aren’t getting into anything they shouldn’t, aren’t chewing on wires or eating anything that could kill them, that he collapses into bed with his clothes still on and falls asleep before Derek can kiss him goodnight. But those are just the in-between days.

The other days more than make up for the stress of suddenly being fathers of four fat, energetic pups. Stiles is in love with waking up to four little bodies in a pile between him and Derek and the sound of paws slip-sliding on the hardwood floors as the pups come running in a pack. He’s in love with the soft, heavy-lidded contentment etched across Derek’s face almost all the time now and the ways Derek looks at their kids like he finally unlocked a door he’d thought forever closed. They’d been happy together, the years they’d spent just the two of them, but Stiles had always known that Derek wanted a family. And now they have one. The love and hope in Derek’s eyes whenever Stiles catches him looking at their pups makes his whole body warm with happiness and his stomach flip in joy. This is family.

Sometimes Stiles comes into the living room after a long day to find Derek passed out on the floor or the couch with the pups piled on top of him. Two of them flop across his stomach and one curls into the crook of his arm while another finds a space against his neck. It’s sort of the most endearing thing Stiles has ever seen and the number of photos he’s taken of his sort-of-husband and their pups would be embarrassing but he loves every one of them. Also, it makes for great blackmail material for the undoubtedly tense teenage years that are to come. Stiles knows how much the kids love the heat of their father’s body and the scent of his skin – he feels the same. They snuffle at Stiles’ neck and wrists as often as they can, rubbing their little wet noses across his skin, scenting him in an imitation to the touches Derek leaves on his body every day. And Stiles rubs his face along the pups’ jaws and nuzzles their bellies the way Derek does.

Derek is the one who first takes them out into the forest beyond the Hale house. At a couple of weeks old, they’re already growing confident and Derek decides it’s time for them to explore more of their territory. Stiles isn’t too worried about them getting lost in the woods; Derek’s known their individual scents and the rhythms of their hearts from when they were still in Stiles’ belly. He’d be able to find them anywhere. And they’re wolves, after all – they belong in the cool damp of the forest. (Stiles thinks his magic could find them too.)

Stiles watches as his pups tromp through the grass, sniffing at anything, and walking all over each other in their eagerness to get the scent of absolutely everything around them. He can’t imagine what it all smells like to them. Derek had tried to explain it to him once, what the forest smelled like to werewolf, but it’s too much. It’s too all encompassing. That part isn’t for him to understand and he’s ok with it. There are pieces of their lives that are just for him, too. Derek still sniffs out the magic under his skin with an apprehensive cock of his head before shaking it off and scenting the curve of Stiles’ throat. Instead, Stiles watches, cheeks hurting from grinning so widely, as Derek gently herds the little pack around through the trees until the pups are exhausted, tongues lolling and tails wagging happily. When Stiles looks up, Derek’s eyes are on him, bright and wide open, and his face is lit up in the biggest of smiles. Derek jerks his chin and Stiles is drawn towards them without needing to be asked. He ends up on the forest floor with his pups climbing all over his legs, chewing in his fingers, and making little high pitched attempts at howls that make Stiles’ heart clench tight in his chest. He can’t wait to hear them sing out with Derek. Or the sounds of their human voices. He’s so eager.

But the full moon is coming and Stiles will finally meet the other side of his family.

***

It’s dark, the moon is heavy above him, and Stiles is restless, more so that usual. Maybe it’s his spark, maybe he’s just that attuned to Derek and the cycle of the moon inside his mate, but Stiles finds himself affected by the moon too. It doesn’t pull him the way it does the wolves, doesn’t fight his blood for control. But he can still feel something prickling along his skin when the moon phases full and bright. And tonight is a very special moon. It’s the first time they’re going to see their pups in their human forms, the first time they’ll give them their names.

Stiles is resting on a giant boulder in a clearing in the forest, picking at the edge of one of the blankets he brought from inside, when Derek emerges from the trees, trailed by their four panting pups. They’re yipping, high and excited, and nipping at each other playfully as they trip over their big feet. Stiles’ heart flips at the sight of them, the way it always does. He wants to jump down and join them, wrap them up in his arms and roll around with them, but he doesn’t. He stays where he is, even though his whole body is aching for his family.

He knows the time is drawing near and even Stiles can feel the itching pull lessening. The moon is falling lower in the sky and soon the pups will be released from its hold, free to find their human bodies for the first time. Stiles is almost trembling with anticipation for that moment. He hopes he’ll recognize his own children. He knows their voices from across the world; he hopes he’ll know their eyes too.

Derek pads up to the boulder, massive in his full wolf form, fur coal black and eyes that light green that should be unnatural but isn’t at all. He looks proud and a little nervous, even with his canine face. He rests his muzzle on Stiles’ knee and huffs a breath.

Stiles grabs Derek’s huge head in his hands and looks deep into eyes that aren’t quite human, but still all Derek.

“Bring our kids to me, ok?”

Derek nods and pushes forward, pushes his nose into Stiles’ neck and wuffs his agreement. He’s ready for this moment too. Stiles buries his fingers in the thick ruff around Derek’s neck and rests his chin on Derek’s head, closing his eyes for a moment and just trying to steady his breathing. He can hear the pups moving restlessly behind Derek. The change must be nearing because they aren’t trying to run back into the woods, choosing instead to stay close to their dads. Stiles can only imagine how confusing it must be for them.

Stiles presses a kiss to the top of Derek’s muzzle before gentle pushing him away. “Go on, Papa Wolf. Help them through this.”

Derek grumbles deep in his chest before loping back over to where the pups are sitting in a pile. They seem bewildered, making high little noises like they’re trying to howl but can’t quite do it yet. Stiles slips off his perch on the rock, unable to sit still a moment longer. But he doesn’t get too close; he doesn’t want to get in the way. There will be time for him to be more involved during the full moon.

Derek paces restlessly around and around the pack of pups as the change begins, circling them. He noses at their bellies, licks their ears, lets them bite at his paws. Anything to ground them to the world. He can control it; their pups can’t. Not yet. He must be their anchor until they find their own, though Stiles knows both he and Derek will be the pups anchors for many years to come. The moon is setting and their bodies are beginning to twist and bend against their will and Stiles can’t watch. He’s seen it happen more times than he can count. He’s watched Derek and Scott and the rest of the pack change in front of him, but this is different. These are their children, born of blood and magic and the steel of his own fucking will. He can’t watch them hurt, even if it’s what their bodies were designed to do.

Stiles inhales in the wet earth of the forest, the scent that’s become home, and waits.

“Stiles.” Derek’s human voice is soft, prompting, tinged with something Stiles can’t quite name. He opens his eyes. His heart skips.

In place of four furred, wriggling pups are pale, squirming children. Stiles suddenly can’t breathe. They look to be several months old instead of the three weeks they’ve lived. They’re small and pale, naked and somehow so insanely fragile looking lying there amongst the fallen leaves that Stiles almost can’t bear it.

“Derek,” Stiles whispers, clutching the pile of blankets to his chest, because it’s the only word he knows in that moment.

“Come on.” Derek takes his hand tugs him forward because his legs won’t quite work on their own. 

Stiles kneels down in the soft earth next to their kids, their babies. His mouth opens and closes soundlessly and he thinks the only thing keeping him grounded is the heavy weight of Derek’s hand on his shoulder.

“They’re naked,” Stiles finally manages to mumble and Derek huffs a laugh.

“Well, yes.”

“I brought blankets,” Stiles says dumbly and then just stares at the kids. They’re soft looking, with tiny hands and cute noses and they all look completely different and exactly the same. And yet Stiles knows that the little boy lying closest to Derek is the pup with the darkest fur and the boy nearest him is the pup whose nose twitches the most when he sleeps. Stiles knows his children, as completely as he knows his own heart and Derek’s. He stares at their fat little limbs and the chub under their chins and tries not to cry.

The smallest, Laura, their only girl and the only one already named, is staring up at the night sky where the stars are visible through the tops of the trees. With trembling hands, Stiles reaches out and bundles her up in the soft folds of a blanket. She squirms a little in his hands and blinks up at him with huge blue eyes. He feels her knowing him the way he always knows her and his makes his heart clench almost painfully. Stiles can feel the weight of Derek’s gaze on him as he pulls their daughter to his chest and holds her human body close for the first time. He remembers how they almost lost her and holds her that much tighter. He feels Derek more than he sees Derek bundling up the other kids in the remaining blankets and Stiles loosens his hold on Laura just enough to settle a brown-haired boy in his arms too. It shouldn’t feel any different – he’s held their pups before – but somehow it does.

Stiles looks up, sees Derek and the rest of their family, and can’t stop the amazed laugh from bubbling over his lips. He’s kneeling on the damp ground with his sort-of-husband and their four kids and nothing has ever felt as right in his life.

Derek lifts his gaze from where he’s been staring at the little bundles in his arms and Stiles finds the same shell-shocked, astounded, utterly in love expression he knows is all across his own face. The magic in Stiles’ blood surges and he senses tendrils of it reaching out to slide around Derek and their kids. He knows protective power when he feels it.

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice is low and rough and Stiles wants to hold onto this perfect moment forever, but he knows there’s a little left to do.

“Is it…okay?” Stiles asks, suddenly nervous. He doesn’t want to fuck this up now.

“Is what okay?” 

“To name them? Can we…we agreed that…and I want…” Stiles swallows. He doesn’t know what else there is left to want. The kids are squirming in his arms and he has everything right here. There’s just one more thing.

“Yes, Stiles.” Derek’s mouth twitches and his eyebrow lifts. “It’s time.”

“How do we…is there, like, a ritual or something?” The last ritual Stiles put himself through took nearly everything out of him, out of them both.

“There was once,” Derek says, with that far-away voice he sometimes gets when he talk about the history of his people. “With runes and burnt sage, but even my mother didn’t know the whole thing. It’s too ancient. Now we just…call them by name.”

Stiles nods and shifts closer to Derek, so they’re kneeling facing each other. In Derek’s huge arms are two little boys. One has black hair and even though his eyes are still the blue of babies, Stiles suspects they’re going to change to light green soon enough. The other boy has brown hair that’s sticking up in crazy tufts the way Stiles’ did when he was a kid. He grins.

“That one looks like you,” Stiles says, nodding at the one with the darkest hair.

Derek looks down at the black-haired boy. Stiles doesn’t need the wolf’s nose to know this one is the wolf pup with the same coal-dusted fur as Derek. And was the one who kicked Stiles so constantly throughout his pregnancy.

“No he doesn’t,” Derek protests, brow furrowing. He’s gazing down at the kid like he’s memorizing every cell of him. “He doesn’t look like anything yet. He looks like a baby.”

“He’s going to have your eyebrows, I can tell.”

“You can’t tell that.”

“I wonder when his eyes will change? I bet they’re gonna be like yours. I hope so. I love your eyes. Hey, when will they get their yellow eyes? Now that they’ve taken their human forms? They must be betas, right? Your betas. Are they my betas too? Even though I’m not a wolf?”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupts, with just a hint of an amused growl.

“Sorry.” Stiles grins. “Go on.”

Derek’s jaw works for a moment, tensing and flexing as he gathers his thoughts. Stiles knows Derek picked the names months ago, but he’d kept the names secret, even from Stiles.

Derek focuses his gaze on the boy with the black hair and Stiles watches as their son locks eyes with his father.

“You are Oliver,” Derek intones and Stiles shivers. It’s not a spell, not really, but Stiles’ spark flares deep inside him and he swears the forest around them takes a breath.

Oliver squirms in the crook of Derek’s arm, hands opening and closing reflexively where he’s wriggled them loose from the folds of the blanket.

“I think he likes it,” Stiles whispers.

“Do you?” Derek’s eyes lift and meets Stiles. Stiles can see the faint apprehension in them.

“Ollie.”

“Oliver.” The hint of a growl is back.

“Ollie,” Stiles teases, grinning as Derek rolls his eyes. He leans in, over the children nestled in their arms, and presses a soft, lingering kiss to Derek’s mouth. “Keep going.”

Derek nods towards the boy in Stiles’ arm. He’s got the straightest nose of all the kids. “You are Nathaniel.”

“Nate.”

Derek doesn’t even correct Stiles, just lifts that eyebrow at him. Stiles has already been calling Laura “Pipsqueak” ever since she was born. The frustrated growl Derek gives him every time he calls their daughter “Pip” is completely worth it.

“And him?” Stiles asks, ducking in to brush his nose across the top of the third little boy’s head. He’s got dark rusty brown hair and an upturned nose. He smells sweet and earthy at the same time. Like milk and the forest floor and the light of the moon.

“You are Finley.”

Stiles hums softly. “Ollie, Nate, and Finn.”

“Oliver, Nathaniel, and Finley,” Derek counters, but he’s got that half-smile on his face and Stiles has to kiss him again.

“And Laura,” Stiles says, ducking down to brush a kiss across the crown of Laura’s head.

“And Laura.”

“Stilinski-Hale.” The sound of the name makes Stiles’ twitch happily. He isn’t legally a Stilinski-Hale, even though Stiles thinks of himself as one, and he knows Derek does too. The ceremony under the moon with the witch and the runes bound them together, but he and Derek haven’t signed any legal documents. Stiles thinks maybe they should, now. If it’s possible. There are children now, it’s not just him and Derek; he wants to do this right.

Stiles gazes down at the four kids, still so small, but growing bigger every day. He remembers the very moment they were born and now impossibly tiny they’d been just a few weeks ago. It feels like just the other day and a lifetime ago. In an instant, Stiles sees the next 18 years of his life laid out long before him. His kids growing up and going to school and falling in love and becoming the people they’re supposed to be. And all along, Derek beside him, holding his hand, keeping his heart. It’s not overwhelming the way it was when Derek first grabbed his arms and kissed his mouth.

“Are they going to keep growing this fast?” Stiles asks suddenly.

“I don’t know.”

“Because I don’t think I’m ready to be the father of four werewolf teenagers just yet. It was bad enough having one teenage werewolf friend. I want to keep them like this where they can’t talk back or sneak out of the window in the middle of the night, which you know they’re going to do because they’re our kids and they’re going to get into all sorts of trouble and mischief and oh my god I’m my dad.”

“Stiles,” Derek pushes in and kisses Stiles quiet. “They can’t even talk. We have time.”

“I wanna be dad.” Stiles’ brain is jumping all over and he doesn’t even care. He is too deliriously happy.

“Okay,” Derek rubs his nose along Stiles’ jaw and scents down his neck. Stiles doesn’t need enhanced hearing to know that the sound of that word, with all the depth of meaning behind it, makes Derek’s heart stutter. 

“What do you wanna be called?”

Derek rumbles something low in his chest and the sound makes the kids look curiously towards their father. Derek bears his teeth and the kids open their mouth to mimic him. Stiles smiles so broadly he feels it in his bones.

“How about papa?” Stiles offers. “Papa Wolf.”

“Hmm, that works.”

Stiles grins. Derek is going to be such an incredible father and Stiles can’t wait for every moment of it, for them to do this together. The ground is cold beneath his knees and he knows they should go inside for some food and clothes and then bed. The kids must be exhausted after their first change. But Stiles wants to hold onto this moment just a little while longer. He carried these children in his body and under his heart; now it’s time for them to begin to find their place in the world. And Stiles can’t wait to help them along the way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to anyone who asked for a little more of this little story :) I hope you like it.


End file.
